


Something Borrowed

by typicaltorii



Series: Confessions Over Coffee [3]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Fluff, GOD I LOVE THESE BOYS, Kind Of A Sick!Fic, M/M, Mild Language, Prinxiety ftw, Rating May Change, SO, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sanders Sides (Video Blogging RPF), but not really, idk I thought it was pretty tame, just a few curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 05:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14277927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typicaltorii/pseuds/typicaltorii
Summary: Roman can't help falling head over heels for Virgil, the boy that brings him chicken noodle soup when he thinks Roman is sick and looks absolutely adorable in Roman's clothes. It's a shame Virgil will never admit to being Roman's damsel in distress.





	Something Borrowed

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHH this work is so flipping cute! I was actually fangirling to myself while writing this. Which is probably why it's so damn long. ^^;
> 
> Thanks again to my lovely beta, triggermoreliketiger. I just finished catching up on their story, Angst Next Door, and it is so damn good. 11/10 definitely recommend.
> 
> Like I keep saying, if you are creatively inclined (moodboards, drawings, the like) and this story gives you inspiration, please please please share it with me! I love seeing things based off my stories, so send it my way through Tumblr! (@typical_torii)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

**New Message: Angst Incarnate  
hey where r u? came in for breakfast but ur not here. u ok?**

Roman sighed as he rolled away from his phone, letting it fall onto his pillow. How could he explain to Virgil that he wasn’t really okay?

_To: Angst Incarnate  
i’m fine. sorry i wasn’t there to help out my damsel in distress._

**New Text: Angst Incarnate  
not ur damsel in distress.**

Roman smiled at the text, and could barely stop himself from replying ‘not yet anyway’. Virgil just kind of made him want to flirt. All the time. Something about his quick-to-reply nature just made it so fun.

It also didn’t help that Roman was sporting a hopelessly obvious crush on the boy.

Which made it that much hard to admit that Virgil had been right.

Roman studied his bandaged left hand, absentmindedly running his thumb over his palm. Virgil had told Roman that he needed to get his cut looked at before it got infected, but Roman, ever the stubborn one, had told Virgil he would be fine, and that all he needed was some antibacterial cream and a good bandage. But luck decided that Virgil must be right, and Roman’s cut, although not very deep or gnarly, just had to get infected.

So Roman had to get the cut cleaned out and stitched up, and now he couldn’t do much with just one hand. And, to top things off, his doctor told him to take a few days off work until they removed the stitches, which sucked because then he couldn’t see Virgil.

It was all one big mess.

**New Text: Angst Incarnate  
u didn’t answer my question. where r u?**

_To: Angst Incarnate  
home. why ask?_

**New Text: Angst Incarnate  
i’m gonna come see u. address?**

Roman jumped out of his bed like he had been shocked. He wasn’t anticipating company, as evident by his messed up hair and his disorganized room. He started to kick his dirty clothes into his closet as he texted Virgil his address and raced into the bathroom to do...something with his hair. After running a comb through it every which way, he decided on just letting his bangs hang loose. After all, he didn't want to look like he was trying to impress Virgil outright. Subtly was the key.

Roman was midway through tugging on a less wrinkled t-shirt when a sharp knock resounded off his apartment’s front door. Roman prayed that Thomas was still at work and Remy was still doing his internship so they didn't bear witness to the train wreck that would inevitably happen.

Roman rounded the corner to the living room, nearly leaping over the couch and stumbling to the door. He grabbed the handle, and collected himself the best he could as he flung the door open.

Virgil was standing on the other side, hands shoved deep into the red hoodie Roman had loaned him a couple weeks ago. A black plaid scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck, but Roman only hoped the blush on his face wasn't due to the mid-January chill.

“Well hello, sunshine,” Roman smiled as he leaned against the door, smoothly placing a hand on his hip even though he was slightly shaking from adrenaline, “What brings you here?”

Virgil smiled slyly at Roman as he studied him, “I knew it.”

Roman’s smirk dropped into a confused frown before Virgil laughed, sliding past Roman and into the apartment, “I had a feeling you would run to the door if I knocked, and I'm pretty sure I heard to jump over your couch, so I guess I was right.”

Roman’s face heated as he watched Virgil unwrap the plaid scarf from his neck and hang it on the bare coat rack by the door. Roman couldn't even remember the last time any of the guys used that thing. As Virgil shrugged out of the hoodie, Roman pointedly looked away and walked into the small kitchen off the living room.

“You didn't answer my question,” Roman stated as he started pouring the two of them a couple glasses of water, “Don't take this personally, but why are you here?”

The room suddenly fell silent and Roman glanced over his shoulder to see Virgil playing with a plastic bag held between his hands, a light coloring dusting his cheeks. The boy cleared his throat before extending his arms towards Roman, “I thought you might of been sick, and my dad always makes me chicken noodle soup when I'm sick, so I just thought…”

Roman looked between the plastic bag and the boy hiding behind his bangs, and his heart started beating rapidly in his chest, so fast it almost ached.

_Oh my god. He is so cute. That isn't even fair._

Roman laughed lightly, causing Virgil to look up in embarrassment.

“Listen, if you don't want it, just tell me.”

“No, no,” Roman said quickly, wrapping a hand around the plastic handle almost too quickly, “I do want it! It's just...I’m not...sick.”

The unamused stare Virgil was giving him made Roman almost shrink in size. Before Roman could pull back his hand, Virgil wrapped his hand around Roman’s wrist and turned the hand upwards, revealing the white bandage on Roman’s left palm.

A beat of silence passed between the two boys as Virgil studied the palm and Roman studied Virgil. Basing on Virgil’s reaction, Roman was either going to get a light talking to or a complete earful.

Instead of immediately scolding Roman, Virgil laughed lightly as he looked up at Roman, his brown eyes shining with amusement, “Your cut got infected, huh?”

Roman was in a corner. He could lie, but he didn't want to lie to his crush.

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, his shoulders immediately releasing the tension he had stored in case he was going to get chewed out, “Had to get it cleaned out and everything. It's stitched up now, though, so it should be fine soon.”

Virgil laughed again, just barely above a whisper, “Well you know what they say.” He held his breath for a small beat of a second. “Kiss it to make it feel better.” And with that, Virgil raised Roman’s palm gently to his lips, placing a chaste kiss to the bandage.

Butterflies erupted in Roman’s stomach, and the tips of his fingers and toes were tingling. His face burned with a blush he knew he had no hope of hiding, and his eyes were glued to Virgil’s closed lids. Roman could count on one hand the amount of people who made him feel this way, and Virgil was definitely one of them.

As Virgil pulled away, he grinned slightly up at Roman, and Roman’s stomach flipped, “So have we learned our lesson here?”

Roman had to clear his throat twice before he was able to respond without his voice cracking, “Get hurt more often?”

That made Virgil laugh loudly, dropping Roman’s hand as he turned towards the kitchen.

“Where’s your bowls? We should eat this soup before it gets cold,” Virgil called over his shoulder, placing the plastic bag on the counter and opening the cupboard doors at random, nowhere near where they actually stored bowls.

“Over here,” Roman wandered towards the opposite side of the kitchen, opening the cabinet door and pulling out two soup bowls. After fishing around for a ladle (per Virgil’s request), the two boys dished out their soup and sat side by side at the bar off the side of their kitchen.

After a few minutes of nothing but the sounds of spoons clinking against ceramic, Virgil said causally, “It’s weird to eat next to you. Usually you're separated by two feet of counter.”

Roman smiled down into the lukewarm soup, swirling it slightly, “Yeah. It's kinda nice.”

“I…,” Virgil started, his cheeks flushing a little. Roman was already invested, turning a little more towards Virgil as he waited for the rest of the sentence. Virgil said, shaking his head slightly and rolling back his shoulders, “Nevermind. It's stupid.”

The pout Roman gave Virgil was nearly immediate and for sure unexpected. Usually Roman could hide his emotions a little bit better than this, “No, come on. Say it! You can't just start a sentence and end it like that!”

Virgil dared a glance at Roman before returning his attention back to his bowl, still absentmindedly stirring the soup lightly. The blush spreading slowly from his cheeks down his neck was deepening by the second.

“Well,” Virgil nearly stuttered, “I-I was just going to say that- well- I liked visiting you. At the diner. But I think I might- no wait- I do like this…a little bit better.”

Roman’s brain was on overdrive trying to decode that jumble of words, but he didn't get the chance to respond before Virgil swallowed the rest of the soup and jumped from the bar stool, heading towards their dingy sink. Roman watched as Virgil rolled up the sleeves on his dark purple sweater (purple was a very good color on him) and started to scrub out his bowl before turning to Roman.

“Are the dishes in your dishwasher dirty or clean,” he asked, any traces of the blush from a few seconds ago gone.

Roman snapped out of his staring, saying with confusion, “Dirty. Why ask?”

Virgil just shrugged, opening the dishwasher and depositing the bowl into the top rack before picking up another bowl from the pit of dirty dishes.

It wasn't but a second later that Roman noticed in a mixture of embarrassment and horror that Virgil, his guest and _crush_ , was doing their dishes.

“Oh, Virge, you really don't have to do that,” Roman jumped up, bringing his nearly empty bowl to the sink and trying to push Virgil away, but Virgil didn't budge. He brought the bowl with him, dropping it next to the previous bowl and reaching for a pan next.

“No, no, no,” Roman rambled, blocking Virgil’s every reach for the sink, “Go sit down! You're a guest! You don't have to do me and my roommates dishes!”

“I insist,” Virgil frowned, and Roman’s heart skipped a beat at the cute expression, “I work with my hands when I have something on my mind.”

“No,” Roman nearly all but whined as he placed a bracing hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “I would be a horrible host if you did my chores! Please, I beg of you, go. Sit. Down.”

The tension of their standstill was as palpable as the clothes on Roman’s back. Virgil didn't attempt to reach for any more dishes, and the hand that was resting on the boy’s shoulder felt like it was burning from the contact, but neither one of the boys moved. Their eyes were locked on each other’s and Roman was afraid that Virgil could hear his beating heart in the silence.

_God, even his eyelashes are long. Can this boy get any more attractive?_

“Sit down, Virge,” Roman’s voice was softer than he thought it would be, and Virgil’s cheeks dusted with pink. Roman couldn’t tear his eyes from the boy.

Which is why he never anticipated the cold slap of water up the side of his face, followed quickly by Virgil’s maniacal laughter as he jumped out of Roman’s reach.

Roman was frozen in shocked as the water seeped under the collar of his shirt and practically soaked his entire right side. He could feel the soft popping of bubbles on his skin.

“Oh,” Roman nearly growled, lips pulling into a smirk, “You’ve started it now.” Roman whipped towards the sink, grabbing a handful of soapy water and slinging it in Virgil’s direction. He was more than pleased with himself as Virgil yelped in shock as the water splashed over his stomach, dropping down his sweater and onto the hemline of his pants. Virgil retaliated, flicking more water onto Roman as Roman grabbed another handful of bubbles and deposited it directly on the crown of Virgil’s head.

After both boys thoroughly soaked the kitchen and their rambunctious laughter dwindled down to light giggles, Roman turned off the water, taking in the damage Virgil inflicted on his poor shirt and basketball shorts. His entire right side was soaked head to toe, and his socks squelched uncomfortably on the laminated tiles.

But Roman was proud to see that Virgil was no better off. From the waist down, Virgil looked like he had been wading in a pool, and a few bubbles desperately clumped in Virgil’s bangs. The boy was beet-red and smiling, though, and Roman’s chest felt light with a fuzzy feeling he had grown accustomed to.

“Look what you’ve done,” Virgil said, pulling away the sweater that was clinging to his lower abdomen, “I come to your house, bringing you food and doing your dishes, and this is the thanks I get? How dare you.”

“You started this,” Roman quipped, grabbing the nearest dish towel and beginning to wipe off the counter, “But, if you want to, I can give you some clothes to wear and toss those in the dryer for you.”

Virgil seemed to ponder the idea before slowly nodding, eyes fixated on his socks, “Yeah, that would probably be best. I can't go out in soaked clothes. With my luck, I'll probably get, like, pneumonia or something.”

“Then I would have to bring you chicken noodle soup,” Roman smiled over his shoulders, and watched with pleasure as Virgil smiled at his feet, shrugging half heartedly. Roman set the dish towel on the counter, gesturing with Virgil to follow him as he lead the way out of the kitchen and through the living room.

Roman realized belatedly that, even though he kicked most of the clothes on his floor into his closet, his room was still a disaster. His notes from his classes were scattered over his desk, and every available surface had some article of clothes strung over it. His script was laying half-read over his pillow and his sheets were completely disorganized from when he had jumped out of his bed. Cringing inwardly, Roman gestured towards his bed, “Make yourself comfy. I'll try to find something that'll fit you.”

“Nice room,” Virgil said quietly as he sat on Roman’s bed, bouncing a few times on the mattress before pulling his feet under him.

“So I guess you'll probably need a new shirt and pants, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

As Roman rifled through his dresser, pulling out the smallest shirts he owned, he couldn't help but to heat up a little. His nerves were on end with anticipation and he was trying his hardest to keep his face from betraying how nervous he was feeling. Virgil was in his room. On his bed. And, pretty soon, would be wearing Roman’s clothes.

Roman knew how to keep himself in check, but goddamn did he feel like a teenage boy having a crush over for the first time. He knew that nothing was going to happen tonight with Virgil, but the small, hormone-filled portion of his conscious kept Roman’s mind running through every single what-if situation.

After debating nearly everything he pulled out of his dresser, Roman handed over a clean white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that fell just a little too short on Roman.

“Just bring your clothes with you when you're done,” Roman wasn't looking directly at Virgil for fear that Virgil would see the nervousness Roman was hiding, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Roman pivoted quickly and nearly ran out of the room, unintentionally slamming the door after him. He didn't slow down until he nearly slipped on a puddle in the kitchen, and Roman remembered too late that he was still soaked.

_I should have grabbed some clothes for myself while I was in there._

But Roman shook his head, letting out a small sigh as he leaned against the counter with his palms.

_I genuinely don't think I could have lasted another minute alone in that room with him._

A few minutes later, Virgil rounded the corner of the kitchen, wet clothes bunched in his arms. Roman made sure he didn't drop his jaw or the towel he was holding as he looked Virgil over.

Roman knew Virgil looked good in his clothes. He did loan him his hoodie after all. But Roman was yet again surprised.

Virgil was nearly swallowed up in the white t-shirt, and the sweatpants hung loosely around his hips. The cuffs of the pants were folded over themselves, rolled up an inch or two.

Cute was the only word ringing around in Roman’s head.

“Ah,” Roman was speechless, “They don't quite fit.”

“They’ll do for now, I guess.”

After Roman changed and the two boys threw their soaked clothes into the dryer, and Roman all but forced Virgil to watch some TV while Roman finished cleaning the kitchen up, Roman joined Virgil on the couch, careful to keep some distance between himself and the boy.

“Are you…,” Roman couldn't believe what he was seeing, “Watching RuPaul’s Drag Race?”

Red immediately tinged Virgil’s ears as he sunk lower into the couch, arms crossed defensively, “Well, yeah. It's good.”

“I never would expected this from you,” Roman laughed as he brought one leg up on the couch, relaxing his left arm across the back of the couch, “I kinda pegged you for, like, the Adult Swim kind of station.”

“Only sometimes,” Virgil shrugged, “Patton usually makes me watch animal documentaries with him. Especially the baby ones. But hey, this show is pretty damn funny sometimes. Plus, there is so much drama in it, it's kinda hard to stop watching.”

Roman smirked, raising an eyebrow as he looked Virgil’s way, “Oh, so you're a drama nerd, too?”

Virgil laughed lightly under his breath, shaking his head before looking towards Roman, “I mean tea, dirt, receipts. Not your kinda drama, Princey.”

“Princey,” Roman asked, a little bit of devilishness in his voice, “That one’s new.”

Virgil shrugged nonchalantly, but his cool demeanor was completely betrayed by the darkening of his blush, “Yeah, well, you are exactly what I imagine when I think of ‘Prince Charming’.”

“Oh,” Roman was enjoying this way too much for his own good, but he just had to press forward, “And what do you imagine as ‘Prince Charming’?”

“Arrogant,” Virgil replied cockily, his lips pulling into a smirk that rivaled Roman’s, “Center of attention. Sings all the time. All around a royal pain, but undeniably handsome.”

Roman’s face was burning, but if there was one thing he was good at, it was outflirting all of his opponents, “Why, Virgil, it almost sounds like you're flirting with me.”

“And what if I am?”

Virgil’s grin was too confident, too alluring, and Roman has to pause to just enjoy the view of Virgil, completely relaxed in Roman’s clothes and flirting shamelessly.

“Well,” Roman replied slyly, shifting ever so slightly to reveal a small sliver of skin where his shirt rode up, “All I’ll say is that you better be prepared to finish what you started.”

And there was the tension again, where both boys were openly challenging each other, eyes glimmering in the half-light filtering through the window on the far wall. Except this time, it was different. There was the feeling of anticipation, of unsteadiness, coursing just under the surface of their words that made Roman’s skin tingle.

Roman’s eyes redirected to Virgil’s mouth, watching as the boy lightly licked his bottom lip. Roman bit his own in response, and glanced back at Virgil’s eyes to see that the boy was already staring at Roman’s mouth.

Despite the fact that Roman had tried to put as much space as possible between himself and Virgil, it still wasn't a lot, and when Virgil shifted so he was mirroring Roman, Roman could feel the dip in the cushion from where he was. There was only maybe two feet between them, and that suddenly felt far too close for Roman’s standards. But Roman couldn't pull himself further away. He was frozen in his spot, simply looking at Virgil, outlined by the soft lighting.

“So you think I’m handsome,” Roman’s voice was husky from the lump in his throat, and if he didn't know any better, he would have guessed that the unintentional shiver that shook through Virgil was a direct reaction of that.

“I also think you’re a pain,” Virgil’s voice was a little bit hoarse too, and god did that do wonders to Roman’s mind, “But...yes, you are handsome.”

Roman couldn't fight the triumphant smirk that pulled at his lips, and he leaned in slightly, just barely catching a whiff of mint off Virgil.

“So if I’m Prince Charming,” Roman nearly whispered, watching Virgil’s eyes (god they were gorgeous), “Does that make you my damsel in distress?”

“Oh my god,” Virgil groaned, rolling his eyes and placing a hand over Roman’s face, pushing him away slightly, “I am not your damsel in distress.”

“Yet,” Roman added, laughing lightly at the chagrined look on Virgil’s face.

“Whatever,” Virgil muttered as he stood up just as the dryer let out a monotone beep. Without a word, Virgil wandered over to where the dryer was situated behind a bi-folding door. Roman couldn't not appreciate the view of Virgil leaning over to grab his sweater and jeans from the machine, revealing a bit of the pale expanse of his lower back, two identical indents right above the waistline of the sweatpants, and a very pleasant view of his undeniably round-

Roman ripped his gaze away with furiousness, cheeks immediately aflame.

_I can't believe I just did that._

“I’m gonna go change in your room,” Virgil said as he passed the couch, looking up from his laundry and pausing as he studied Roman’s face, “You okay? Your face is bright red.”

“Just fine,” Roman said quickly, giving a tense smile. Virgil just nodded, worried look still on his face as he continued on to Roman’s room. It wasn't until Roman heard the soft click of his door closing that he left out the breath he had been holding in, sinking his head onto his hands.

_What is with you, Roman? Do you not know shame?_

Roman was counting down the seconds until Virgil came back out, wearing his sweater and jeans again. Roman nearly had to thank the lucky stars that Virgil was no longer in his clothes, because that was almost enough to send Roman into cardiac arrest.

“Hey, my dad is getting antsy and told me to come back home,” Virgil said as he typed away on his phone, “Wish I could stay longer, but eh. It is a school night.”

“Yeah, wouldn't want to keep Cinderella out past midnight. Your carriage might turn into a pumpkin,” Roman joked lightheartedly as he stood and made him way over to the door. He watched as Virgil pulled out his car keys and wallet from Roman’s jacket and retrieved his scarf before joining Roman at the door.

“Uh,” Roman said, looking between Virgil and his abandoned hoodie, “What are you doing?”

“Returning your jacket,” Virgil stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And what are you wearing home,” Roman asked incredulously, hand still resting on the doorknob. Virgil raised his arms, gesturing to his sweater. Roman shook his head, pointing to his hoodie and leveling Virgil with a stare that just screamed ‘don't even try to fight me on this’. “Put that hoodie back on. You're not leaving here in just a sweater.”

“But it’s your hoodie,” Virgil argued, crossing his arms.

“And you’re borrowing it,” Roman was not about to give up this fight, “Put the hoodie on or I’m going to make you put the hoodie on.”

A glint of mischief shimmered in Virgil’s eyes as he replied smoothly, “You must really like seeing me in your clothes, huh?”

Whatever Virgil’s intentions were, he definitely succeeded at coloring Roman’s ears pink as he frowned, “Oh, shut up and put on the damn hoodie.”

Virgil snickered as he turned around, grabbing the crimson hoodie and throwing it over his head quickly. Once the hoodie was situated, Virgil turned around.

“Good,” he mocked, holding his arms out dramatically. Roman could have sworn he was about to turn in a circle.

“Yes,” Roman smiled in satisfaction as he opened the door, letting in the biting January air, “Much better.”

“I'll text you when I get home,” Virgil said as he shoved his phone and wallet into one pocket, keys into the other. Before Virgil made it fully out the door, he pivoted quickly.

Before Roman could process what was going on, Virgil had thrown his arms around Roman’s shoulders, grabbing the man in a tight hug. Roman instinctively wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, half out of shock from the sudden contact.

“I’m glad you're not sick,” Virgil muttered next to Roman’s ear, and Roman could not have been happier that Virgil couldn't see his face, “Hope you hand gets better soon.”

Before Roman could say anything, Virgil had already disentangled himself from Roman’s grasp and turned away, heading towards the stairs to the parking lot.

“See ya, Princey,” Virgil called over his shoulder as he pulled the red hood over his dark hair.

Roman was utterly dumbfounded as he watched Virgil’s retreating back, and he couldn't make himself close the door until he saw Virgil jump safely into his car. Then, and only then, did he have the heart to close the door.

He didn't realize until minutes later that Virgil’s scarf was hanging nearly on the coat rack again. Roman touched the scarf, admiring how soft it was before retrieving his phone from the kitchen and shooting a quick text to Virgil.

_To: Angst Incarnate  
hey u left ur scarf._

It took several minutes for Virgil to reply.

**New Text: Angst Incarnate  
i know.**

_To: Angst Incarnate  
don’t you want it back?_

**New Text: Angst Incarnate  
why would i? ur borrowing it.**

Only now Roman understood, small smile tugged at his lips. Virgil was using Roman’s own logic against him. Clever boy.

Needless to say, Roman definitely got teased by his roommates over his ‘new’ scarf, but he couldn’t honestly care less. Sure, he was quickly becoming deeply infatuated with a certain gloomy boy addicted to coffee and RuPaul, but Roman was holding out hope that maybe Virgil might just like him back.

As the story goes, Virgil is his damsel in distress (even though he won't admit it). And it was Roman’s sole job to be his Prince Charming.

And Roman did believe in happily-ever-afters.


End file.
